Jacob Ricci
Dr. Foggleman
EDC 102H
26 September 2011 High School Experience
High school for me was not the typical teenage experience. School was painful for me; it was something I survived through rather than thrived in. The problems began freshman year with Algebra Two Honors.
I went into high school having had some rough experiences in middle school, but ready to start anew. I was admitted to multiple honors classes, including Algebra Two and English. Unfortunately for me, a series of events combined to make my life miserable. The school had recently changed the curriculum, and this was first year of freshman entering Algebra Two rather than Geometry. This meant that the classes was a mix of freshman as well as sophomores. Also, the teachers were not prepared to teach freshman, having built the class around a sophomoric understanding of math. Of the fifteen or so freshman to begin the class, I was one of three who remained in the class after the first two weeks. Things got worse. At open house, the parents made her cry with questions and accusations as to why the entire class was failing. This teacher would ruin my high school career. I fell behind in her class and grew to hate math. I found myself giving up on problems I could have done, simply because she had drilled into me the fact that I could not succeed in her class. She tried to teach me to quit, not to persevere, that I could not rather than I could, and that when I have trouble, its best not to ask for help and to just give up. I disagreed with this, and so my life became miserable.
Sophomore year was little better. While my math teacher was far nicer, the class was populated with a number of class-clown types who made learning difficult. My new English teacher contradicted herself and told us our opinions on things were wrong. My history teacher taught us things that were incorrect and refused to acknowledge that we knew things. To top it off, my chemistry teacher taught the Pre-AP Chemistry class, at a college level and expected us to understand everything. I struggled to learn from her style of teaching. While the year was not nearly as bad as freshman year, it was not a walk in the park either.
Junior year marked a significant turning point. I found myself in many ways settling in at last to a place where I felt comfortable: the classroom of my AP US History teacher. Mr. Marra, was a great man. He knew his history and knew how to run an AP class. We worked hard, and I worked harder than most, wanting to know everything I could. The class proved to be the first place I felt comfortable and relaxed in the entire building. Mr. Marra and I got a long well , respecting each other’s historical knowledge, and treating each other almost as equals. Mr. Marra made my junior year and my senior year survivable. While my other classes were annoying and difficult, History remained my one strong suit; Mr. Marra’s classroom a place of sanctuary for me.
Senior year, things changed, certain things getting better while the majority grew worse. All along I had refused to abandon my dream of attending the Coast Guard Academy and as such I had continued to struggle through high level math and science courses. I was enrolled in AP Calculus and AP Physics along with AP English. I struggled in Calculus and Physics, working hard to try to maintain my GPA while learning as much as possible. When thing got tough, I would retreat to the solace of Mr. Marra’s classroom, occasionally sitting in on an AP History Class. This helped me greatly, but even so, my life was not fun. I was working to get to the end. I felt the end of high school coming and was running for it as fast as I could. I completed the required senior project, complete my AP Exams, and was ready to walk across the stage and away from the hell of high school. That day finally came, and as I took my diploma, the smile on my face was of pure joy at never having to return to that school for classes again.
For me, high school was not easy, nor was it fun. I struggled with academics as well as the social aspects and the array of activities both during and after school. My single solace was in the classroom of Mr. Marra, and his AP US History Class. Having graduated and moved on, I can honestly say that survived high school, nothing more.
Dr. Foggleman
EDC 102H
26 September 2011
High School Experience
High school for me was not the typical teenage experience. School was painful for me; it was something I survived through rather than thrived in. The problems began freshman year with Algebra Two Honors.
I went into high school having had some rough experiences in middle school, but ready to start anew. I was admitted to multiple honors classes, including Algebra Two and English. Unfortunately for me, a series of events combined to make my life miserable. The school had recently changed the curriculum, and this was first year of freshman entering Algebra Two rather than Geometry. This meant that the classes was a mix of freshman as well as sophomores. Also, the teachers were not prepared to teach freshman, having built the class around a sophomoric understanding of math. Of the fifteen or so freshman to begin the class, I was one of three who remained in the class after the first two weeks. Things got worse. At open house, the parents made her cry with questions and accusations as to why the entire class was failing. This teacher would ruin my high school career. I fell behind in her class and grew to hate math. I found myself giving up on problems I could have done, simply because she had drilled into me the fact that I could not succeed in her class. She tried to teach me to quit, not to persevere, that I could not rather than I could, and that when I have trouble, its best not to ask for help and to just give up. I disagreed with this, and so my life became miserable.
Sophomore year was little better. While my math teacher was far nicer, the class was populated with a number of class-clown types who made learning difficult. My new English teacher contradicted herself and told us our opinions on things were wrong. My history teacher taught us things that were incorrect and refused to acknowledge that we knew things. To top it off, my chemistry teacher taught the Pre-AP Chemistry class, at a college level and expected us to understand everything. I struggled to learn from her style of teaching. While the year was not nearly as bad as freshman year, it was not a walk in the park either.
Junior year marked a significant turning point. I found myself in many ways settling in at last to a place where I felt comfortable: the classroom of my AP US History teacher. Mr. Marra, was a great man. He knew his history and knew how to run an AP class. We worked hard, and I worked harder than most, wanting to know everything I could. The class proved to be the first place I felt comfortable and relaxed in the entire building. Mr. Marra and I got a long well , respecting each other’s historical knowledge, and treating each other almost as equals. Mr. Marra made my junior year and my senior year survivable. While my other classes were annoying and difficult, History remained my one strong suit; Mr. Marra’s classroom a place of sanctuary for me.
Senior year, things changed, certain things getting better while the majority grew worse. All along I had refused to abandon my dream of attending the Coast Guard Academy and as such I had continued to struggle through high level math and science courses. I was enrolled in AP Calculus and AP Physics along with AP English. I struggled in Calculus and Physics, working hard to try to maintain my GPA while learning as much as possible. When thing got tough, I would retreat to the solace of Mr. Marra’s classroom, occasionally sitting in on an AP History Class. This helped me greatly, but even so, my life was not fun. I was working to get to the end. I felt the end of high school coming and was running for it as fast as I could. I completed the required senior project, complete my AP Exams, and was ready to walk across the stage and away from the hell of high school. That day finally came, and as I took my diploma, the smile on my face was of pure joy at never having to return to that school for classes again.
For me, high school was not easy, nor was it fun. I struggled with academics as well as the social aspects and the array of activities both during and after school. My single solace was in the classroom of Mr. Marra, and his AP US History Class. Having graduated and moved on, I can honestly say that survived high school, nothing more.